Rescue
by Lanaea
Summary: Oneshot. K&S, friendship or pre-slash, as you prefer. Diplomatic parties - the bane of every high-ranking Starfleet officer.


The governor has been giving Spock the eye all evening.

At first Jim thinks it's funny. Stoic, reserved, stiff-as-a-board Spock being bombarded with flirtation that is so obvious it's almost exaggerated. But that was an hour and a half ago. Now Jim is starting to worry, because his entertaining show isn't going the way it's supposed to. The governor has yet to clue in to the fact that Spock is Not Interested. It doesn't usually take this long. His first officer has certainly not been encouraging this behavior, acting as nothing less than his usual Vulcan self, but his pursuer is stubborn.

How a person could garner any encouragement from that stone-faced stare and Spock's short, direct responses seems like an utter mystery to Jim. He wonders if this was how Uhura managed to swing a relationship with him – sheer, bull-headed tenacity. But whereas the lovely communications officer's attentions had clearly been met with some sort of positive reception, this is not the case here. Spock is clearly running to the end of his rope. It is not something that is obvious unless you have seen him get there before. The slightest shifting of his facial features. The way his eyes are roaming the room, looking for a means of escape.

Finally, Jim takes pity on him. This isn't funny anymore. Watching the governor try, fail, and become suitably discouraged – that would have been amusing. But seeing someone wear his first officer's patience to the limit is not.

Well, he must amend, not unless it is himself who is doing it. Or Bones. But they both know when to back off, now, and which lines not to cross – more or less.

So Jim disengages himself from a cluster of polite dignitaries, whose conversation is almost putting him to sleep anyway, and makes his way over, drink in hand. He dislikes these functions. Diplomacy is not his best skill, but he is a hero now – and apparently that means he must parade himself around from time to time.

"Spock," he says, adopting his Captain's Voice, which sounds a lot like his second-grade history teacher. It is the most authoritative, adult male tone in the repertoire of his memory which does not involve shouting.

Spock looks at him, and he has to wonder if he has imagined the flicker of relief in his gaze.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your discussion, but I have to remind you that you did agree to help Mr. Scott recalibrate the scientific wave anomaly register this evening," he says, still in that voice and not sounding even remotely like himself. Of course, there is no such thing as a 'scientific wave anomaly register', which is essentially a series of words strung together off the top of his head. But he doesn't think Spock will call him on it, and the dignitaries they are visiting are so unfamiliar with Federation technology that it is a safe bluff.

Spock's expression is inscrutable as ever. Then he inclines his head, and says 'of course, Captain', and with understandable promptness makes his exit.

The governor is not pleased.

Jim could not care less, but Starfleet does. And since he likes his job as captain, he is forced, then, to _make_ himself care, and spends the next hour and a half repairing the damage. He feels like a tool, and a stuffed-shirt, and a sycophant, and he has to resist the urge to back out as quickly as he can. But he puts up with it, explaining that Spock will be gone for the rest of the evening – unlikely to ever return to the planet surface, in fact – and attempting to be witty and polite and not stuff his foot in his mouth. He hates that he has to even bother making the effort.

The evening drags on, and Jim is displeased to find that his attempts at 'damage control' have given the impression that he is amenable to long, drawn out conversations. He speaks, he chats, he tries to keep himself from swearing and so staggers through many of his sentences. He puts on his Captain's Voice full-time, now, and wears a mask of smiling, and wonders if this is what it's like for Spock all of the time, with every single one of his human emotions. If that is the case, he thinks it is impressive that his first officer has not gone batshit-crazy more often than he already has.

He is beginning to seriously consider just turning around and running away when he hears a very unexpected voice from behind him.

"Captain," Spock says, and Jim's eyes go wide as he turns – because there he is, with absolutely no reason to be. "There has been a complication with the scientific wave anomaly register. Your presence is required onboard the ship."

His jaw drops a little before he can stop it, because Spock has just _lied_, and Spock does not lie often, or easily. But he is still Spock, and he is gazing at him expectantly, and Jim knows better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. He makes his apologies and quickly follows his first officer from the oppressive crush of the function, and as they make their way to the beam-out point, he cannot help but give the other man a smile.

"Thanks," he says.

Spock gives him a bland look. "It is the responsibility of the first officer to ensure the captain's well-being," he says simply.

Jim takes it as 'you're welcome'.

---

**Author's Note:** I'm still working on the next update for 'Home', but I couldn't resist just quickly typing this up during lunch today. ^_^;


End file.
